


Weathervane

by waxrose



Category: Arashi (Band)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-06
Updated: 2015-01-06
Packaged: 2018-03-06 10:27:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 12,832
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3131171
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/waxrose/pseuds/waxrose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set in the <i>Saudade</i> universe a few months after the events of <a href="http://waxrose.livejournal.com/313927.html">Saudade</a>, <a href="http://kisppiong.livejournal.com/15223.html">just a little bit further to your town</a>, and <a href="http://waxrose.livejournal.com/312230.html">In That Certain Time</a>; Jun is seeing with a guy, and Aiba tries to convince Jun (and everyone, and himself) that he's okay with this. Somewhere along the line, he fucks up.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> It's been years. Too many years. I started this in 2009, and I wasn't sure if I would ever finish it. I kept coming back to it and revisiting it, changing it as time went on. If I think about it, we're already pretty much in the time I had envisioned the original _Saudade_ story to take place in. However, I didn't really adjust for much – I'm stubbornly clinging to the trappings of my universe! A huge thank you to tangiblewhimsy, honooko, and nicefinalbeam for encouraging me and reading this in various drafts for the past couple of years! ♥

Well, I too can move the prairies  
I too can move the sea  
I'm gonna take that motion  
Take it right inside me  
I'm gonna rattle at your windows  
Rattle at your doors  
Rattle at your shutters  
Show you what they're for  
No more weathervane, I'm gonna be the wind.  
No more spin around, spin around, spin around but always face away  
No more weathervane.  
I'm gonna be the wind. 

**Kris Delmhorst – Weathervane**

"It's me," Aiba shifts the box in his arms, staring into the pin camera at the top of Jun's security buzzer. Knowing someone else can see you but not being able to see them was a little awkward. "I know I'm a little early –" 

"Stop sticking your giant nose into the camera and come on in," Jun's voice crackles over the intercom. The door gives a soft buzz as it comes unlocked, and Aiba opens it, walking towards the elevator.

Aiba doesn't come over too often to Jun's place, and he is rarely invited, but they've all tried to keep a close eye on Jun for the past few months. Checking that Jun is alive and thriving and not trying to hang himself from his curtains has somehow become Aiba's responsibility lately. 

It's reasonable, really; they only live about twenty minutes apart by car; and Jun kicks him out less than he does Sho (who has a tendency to fuss), or Nino, who can't really be bothered with pretenses or sympathy, and who rarely manages to drag himself away from his and Leader's island paradise for more than a few days at a time anyways.

Not that Jun is aware of this little agreement; he would probably never let any of them in again if he knew. There's an unspoken understanding among the other four that these visits be conducted in the most casual and inconspicuous manner possible.

(Personally, Aiba thought that the time Sho pretended to be drunk and get his hand stuck in a jar because Jun wasn't answering any texts was one of his best acting moments of all time. Jun probably didn't appreciate having his marathon bubble bath interrupted, but that was probably why Sho got kicked out so often.)

This time, Aiba had brought fresh mangoes that he picked up for Jun during the location shoot he and Nino did for MIS☆CHIEF in Kagoshima two days ago. Jun would love them, and Aiba could argue that it was easier to just "stop by" and bring them to Jun's place rather than giving them to him at work. 

The elevator in Jun's building is smooth and quick, humming almost imperceptibly as the city slips away beneath Aiba, the glass shell rising higher and higher. Aiba usually takes the stairs in his own place; he only lives on the sixth floor, and the elevators jolt and sometimes open randomly on the same floor after he already pushed the button to close the doors. 

The doors open on the fifteenth floor, and Aiba looks up from where he had been admiring his shoes in the mirrored reflection of the elevator doors. Jun's apartment is one door over from the elevator – at least, he's pretty sure it is. But the guy who just clicked the door shut and is walking towards the open elevator is definitely not Jun.

"Hold the door, please!" The guy waves his hand as he jogs up to the elevator. Aiba ducks his head automatically, a long-held reflex, and shifts the mango box onto one arm, jamming his finger against the hold button.

The man looks nondescript enough; maybe a year or two younger than Aiba (though it's hard to tell, isn't it. Nino still gets carded from time to time when they're overseas) in casual, stylish clothes, a leather jacket casually slung over one arm. He looks familiar somehow, but Aiba can’t place him.

The guy smiles broadly as he walks into the elevator. "Thanks," he says.

"No problem. I'm getting out here," Aiba tugs his cap down over his eyes as he edges past the other man. Which is stupid, really – if this guy just came out of Matsujun's apartment, then he knew Matsujun. There was no point in hiding.

Jun hadn't mentioned that he had company when he had buzzed Aiba up; hopefully he didn't interrupt anything important. He knocks on Jun's door, and it opens almost immediately.

"Hey," Jun looks kind of breathless and cross. His bangs are falling over his forehead and his cheeks are all flushed. "Good timing, you can help me move this couch. This living room is too narrow, really." Jun spends a lot of time complaining about his new apartment, but he absolutely refuses to move. 

"Did I scare your friend away?" Aiba asks, toeing off his shoes and handing over the box in his arms to Jun. 

"He – no, don't worry," Jun rearranges Aiba's shoes in the entranceway and hands him a pair of slippers, "He was leaving anyway. I almost forgot that you said you were coming over today – hey!" Jun already had the box on the counter and was pulling the lid off, eyes going wide.

Aiba had made sure to find the absolute best, dragging Nino and his manager to three different fruit shops between shooting. Jun had a weakness for few things, but fresh, sweet fruit was one of the surest ways to his heart. 

"These look great. Why don't I cut up one now?" Jun weighs a heavy, fragrant fruit in one palm.

"They're for you," Aiba protests, but Jun is already setting out a cutting board and surveying his knife rack with delight. "So, your friend, how do you know –"

"Should I make tea?" Jun asks, cutting across Aiba's question.

"I –" Aiba realizes that he had no clue where his questions were leading to, and it might be a good idea to just shut up. "Please."

It doesn't escape Aiba that Jun is being evasive, but he supposes it really isn't his business anyways. He sits at Jun's counter and watches Jun expertly dice up a couple of the perfectly ripe mangoes while telling Jun about the winter drama he's going to be in next season, and his crazy new neighbor. 

Jun doesn't talk very much about himself, and Aiba doesn't push; this has been a tough time for him, with Sho's wedding so soon and the news of Aiko's recent remarriage. It's probably a bit too much to handle. 

Still, Jun seems fine. He sips his tea normally and laughs when Aiba burns his tongue. It's a definite improvement from that messy period of time in January and February when the tabloids were pecking like vultures at the remains of Jun's marriage and Jun himself was peevish and short-tempered.

It's nice, being able to just sit together and talk, to not care about the movement of clock hands. Jun must have left a window open, maybe in his bedroom, and the early September air is soaking hot. Aiba is grateful that they're taking a break from summer concerts this year; aside from keeping Sho's sanity in check, they'll all probably save about four pounds worth of sweat.

"- and maybe France then, if the tickets are reasonable," Jun is saying, when Aiba finally realizes how far his consciousness has floated out. "You can rent private villas there, on the beach – 

"Really?" Aiba murmurs, and he _tries_ , honestly, he tries to listen and make interested noises at the appropriate times, but he can't help his mind slipping back to the way Jun had skirted around the edges of his questions when he arrived. Aiba's been trying to piece these sorts of things together for awhile now, wondering if it's all just in his head.  
And then, suddenly – he realizes what was so familiar about that guy. 

Jun's phone buzzes, and he picks it up, his forehead wrinkling faintly in a frown. Aiba watches him over the rim of his tea mug as he takes a sip. Now that he's remembered, it's like a switch has gone off in his head, all of the clues falling into place. 

"Eveything okay?" Aiba asks.

"It's fine." Jun sets his phone back down on the counter. He doesn't seem to care to elaborate.

Not his business at all, really. Aiba thanks Jun for the tea and leaves, pretending not to notice the tangled sheets on Jun's bed, not letting himself think about it until he's alone in the elevator again. 

Aiba lets out a deep breath and stares at the doors, so distracted that it takes him a minute to remember to press the button for the ground floor.

+

It was around a month ago when Aiba found out from Nishikido Ryo, who had invited him out to lunch after they wrapped up filming for their summer drama.

"Who was that?" Aiba had asked, after a young, cheerful-looking man had briefly stopped by their table to greet Ryo, before leaving the restaurant. 

Ryo had looked a little confused and slightly furtive. "Friend of Matsujun – haven't you ever met him?"

"No." They were all pretty close, of course, but Jun, especially, was a fiercely private person. He had his life with Arashi, and he had his life outside of Arashi – and the two rarely mixed. Just like Sho drank and confided primarily in his old school friends, or like Ohno had his fishing buddies. Different, but neither more important than the other – well, that wasn't completely true in Jun's case. Aiba knew one of Jun's old ex-girlfriends, and she had said that she had felt like he never made a secret about what came first for him, and that while it was nice to date a guy who was caring and warm, so driven and independent, it kind of hurt to realize that order of importance never changed.

So in that aspect, it would have almost been weirder if Aiba had known Jun's friends. It was kind of lonely to realize that Ryo knew, but he and Jun were drinking buddies, so it was possible. "A friend – from high school?" he asked. 

"Nah," Ryo shook his head. "I've only met him once before, Jun brought him drinking one night, but I think they've been together for about –" He froze mid-sentence as Aiba's eyes widened. "Forget that I said that, okay?"

Aiba had tried to coax the entire story out of him, but Ryo had refused to say anything more. For a while, he thought he had simply misunderstood. It was just too weird to think about, and even stranger that he couldn't have known that about Matsujun when they had known each other for well over two decades. It made sense, maybe, that Jun wouldn't tell anyone, wouldn't really want anyone to know. Jun was a careful and private person.

The whole revelation had continued to bother Aiba for weeks, a mix of shock and curiosity and half-formed new understandings about a person he had thought he already knew back to front. He couldn't really get his mind off it. He thought about maybe asking Jun directly, casually and carefully, just to get the details and reassure Jun that he didn't care, that Arashi wouldn't care. 

It didn't occur to him for a while that if it didn't bother him, he wouldn't have thought about it quite so much.

+

By the time that Aiba leaves Jun's apartment, it's already early evening, so he heads directly to dinner; a rare meal alone with the very busy Sakurai Sho. 

It's been awhile since the two of them have gone out like this; Sho has been so busy with wedding preparations recently, not to mention work. Aiba would have thought, having witnessed Sho under pressure before (although of a largely more academic sort) that he would be tense and snappish and frantic. Instead, Sho is relaxed and happy, relating an embarrassing story about dining with his soon-to-be-in-laws and outlining their honeymoon plans – Germany, then off to a brief stop in Amsterdam – Kyoko has relatives there, apparently. 

Sho picked the restaurant tonight; a teppanyaki joint in Shibuya and it's nice – good food, private, lots of beer.

"How was Jun?" Sho got there ahead of him, and is waiting in a booth with beer for both of them. He probably ordered already, but Aiba doesn't mind; Sho knows exactly what he likes. 

"Seems fine," Aiba wipes his hands with a wet towel, gratefully reaching for the cold beer. He's sweating just from walking outdoors from his car to the restaurant. The beer is cold and delicious, and he feels his tension rising like the bubbles popping up through the foam. This is what Aiba likes best; beer, food, and a conversation he can sink into like a warm bath. 

The evening seems to stretch on, and Aiba's brain has gone fuzzy with meat and beer, but something is still bothering him. 

Sho is in such a good mood that Aiba didn't think it would hurt to casually bring up that he thought there was a possibility that Matsujun might potentially, possibly, you know, be seeing a guy. 

"Hey Sho-chan – have you ever heard anything about Matsujun…with men?"

Sho frowns kind of nervously, like Aiba's made a joke that he doesn't quite get. "Why are you asking?" 

Aiba relates the tale of the Leather Jacket Dude and their brief encounter outside of Jun's apartment, and Sho listens attentively, though his frown seems to deepen as Aiba goes on.

"I don't know, Masaki," Sho still doesn't look convinced when Aiba finishes laying out his evidence. "Could just be a friend. Don't you think you're reading too much into this?"

"It's just that he avoids the question," Aiba insists. "He didn't tell me who that guy is, or why he was there. And Ryo said he – " 

"Why don't you just ask Jun, if it's that important to know?" Sho cuts in.

"Well – no." Aiba pauses while the waitress quietly slips by to check on their drinks. "I don't really know how to ask him," he admits. 

"It's not really our business, in any case," Sho says dismissively. He doesn't sound surprised, even though his ears are red. 

He _knows_ , Aiba realizes. Sho had somehow known all along and he had never said a thing. Which stung, really, even if Aiba knows it made sense. Sho and Leader were the ones that everyone confided in. 

"Whether he is or he isn't, he deserves his privacy," Sho adds, in a tone that says _and that's that_.

Aiba decides not to bring it up again.

+

Nanami comes over around midnight and Aiba tries to forget for a little while – which is pretty easy, because Nanami is bright and cheerful and fun to be with. She's about ten years younger than Aiba – most of his girlfriends have been, lately. Nino teases him about it mercilessly, but Aiba just tells him he's jealous because he's shacking up with an old fisherman. She's just Aiba's type; bright, cute and always up for anything. 

She had just debuted as part of a female idol group with a new, obscure agency and she's always tired these days from the grind of her schedule. Aiba will massage her shoulders on these late nights, which makes her happy. Nanami is just starting up, and Aiba recognizes in her with a startling sense of nostalgia, his own frightening days all those years ago, when everything moved too fast and nothing seemed fixed in place.

Nanami doesn't really like the other two girls in her unit, and she complains about them a lot – Aiba made sure to record and watch their first Music Station performance and they had been all smiles, but he had heard enough stories about backstage sniping and fights that somehow all of it really just looked so fake. He thought that was kind of sad; even if Arashi hadn't always been totally comfortable together in the beginning, they had gone along without any resistance; the members themselves had often been the one point of ease in the entire situation, at first.

Aiba isn't very busy himself, lately – they aren't doing any concerts this summer, and he's the only member who doesn't have a big individual project taking up his time – okay, so he has three regular variety shows aside from Arashi's regular programs, but Matsujun had his stageplay, Ohno is busy with meetings for the new fishing program and Nino was leaving soon to shoot a movie in Korea – as for Sho, well, he had his wedding coming up in just a few weeks now.

It's nice to spend nights like this, together. They never really go out – Nanami's popularity is just starting to rise and she's under strict orders about relationships. Aiba doesn’t mind staying in much. They curl up together on the couch and watch a movie, and kiss a little. It's quiet and comfortable.

That shouldn't bother Aiba, but it does. Somehow, it seems like all his relationships have that same feeling: easy, comfortable, fun. 

It's always the same; the initial, firecracker attraction, slow, explorative kisses and the fragile sense of wonder that all beginnings have. And when that fades, Aiba is left feeling uneasy with the casual flow that replaces it. He isn't stupid enough to think that romantic, puppy-love dizziness can or should stick around forever. He doesn't want that, even though it's fun while it lasts, it always is. 

He honestly likes Nanami, likes spending time like this, but he can't help but wonder, somewhat ridiculously, why it never goes deeper than that. There's no implicit, unspoken understandings, there's no fierce sense that he _needs_ this person, that his life would fall apart if they weren't there. Maybe he's being selfish or shallow, maybe he's expecting something that doesn't really exist. Maybe he's done too many interviews for teen girl magazines. Still, Aiba knows that it can happen, that it does happen. It scares him that he has let his mind linger on what a future would be like with Nanami, as he has with any of his previous relationships – and it feels pleasant, in a strangely empty way. He can't help but think " _Is it this all?_ "

It makes him wonder exactly what is wrong with him.

Nanami pushes Aiba away slightly as he hovers above her, hands stilled on her waist. "What is it?" she asks. 

"Nothing," Aiba lies. He dips his head and kisses her again, trying to lose himself in the soft sounds that she makes into his mouth.

It could be that just by thinking these things, he unconsciously acts out the same pattern. Aiba is kind of sick of being able to slip in and out of relationships so easily, of break-ups never quite hurting as much as they should.


	2. Chapter 2

"Oh, you didn't," Jun sighs, as he opens the door to Aiba, who is protectively holding a gigantic bag of Chinese takeout in front of him and trying to keep a grip on a case of beer in his other hand.

"Didn't what?" Aiba thrusts the bag towards Jun, who wrinkles his nose and holds it far enough away to avoid the grease stains on the paper bag making contact with his soft white sweater. "Didn't remember to get you spring rolls? Because I did!"

"If you keep breaking up with your girlfriends, you're going to make me fat," Jun carries the bag on his kitchen counter and rifling through, pulling out containers. 

Aiba shrugs and pulls out some bowls from Jun's cupboard without asking. He knows that he's transparent, but he doesn't think that Jun has much of a right to complain; he's only been through this routine three times now – once before and twice after he got married. Nino lived closer and had never complained, even though he was only sympathetic in his casual, sniping way. 

Aiba knows he's selfish, imposing on Jun like this when he probably wanted a quiet evening, a rare break from his busy schedule. But somehow, it feels a little less lonely to eat lukewarm takeout and get smashed out of his mind with company. Sho would fuss too much and try to give advice, and it doesn't make Aiba feel any better to mull over his break-up with someone who is been emitting a newlywed aura so disgustingly bright that you could power a toaster with it. And all of Aiba's friends from high school are married now, or have children, settled down someplace, content with their lives. 

Jun is even better than Nino too, even though he'd never tell Nino that. It would have been impossible anyways, since Nino was staying with Leader on Toshimajima this weekend.

It's probably selfish of him, but Aiba somehow imagines that Jun doesn't even mind Aiba barging in on him in these times, because he is secretly glad to know that his love life isn't the only one down the drain.

Although, with that guy in the leather jacket around – Aiba shoves that thought aside and scrapes out some fried noodles from a container onto Jun's plate, generously making sure to give him extra vegetables. "Eat in here or in the living room?" he asks.

"On my brand new couch?" Jun raises his eyebrows. Aiba gives an apologetic laugh and helps Jun set two places at his tiny kitchen table. 

+

"I guess it isn't so bad," Aiba announces later, slumped into Jun's couch, with Jun warm all along his side. He is stuffed, his limbs heavy and liquid. "You 'n dudes." 

"Me and who?" Jun drags his hand through Aiba's hair, messing it up. "You're so drunk."

"You. Dating guys and all." Aiba thinks that if he says it casually like this, it won't be so bad. It doesn't feel as heavy; the words just roll off his tongue for once. He can feel Jun stiffen against him, but he presses on, nonchalant and reassuring. "Not so bad."

Jun shifts a little on the couch, so he's no longer sitting slumped against Aiba's side. Aiba looks at him and almost instantly regrets saying anything. Jun's eyes are guarded, his arms folded across his chest. Aiba holds his gaze nervously, his heart thumping a march in his chest, until Jun looks away and sighs. "You don't even know what you're saying anymore, do you?" he mutters, more to himself than Aiba.

"I –" Aiba is about to argue with that, but things are awkward enough at the moment. Still, Jun's reaction has confirmed what he was wondering about all along, and that knowledge makes his stomach flip uneasily. "I'd better go home, right?"

Jun shakes his head, pushing himself slowly up from the couch. "It's late. I'll make up the futon for you."

Aiba stays where he is, sliding slightly further into the dip of the couch which Jun had just vacated, the cushions still warm. He licks his lips, unsure of what to say. Jun busies himself with the futon, and with sheets and extra pillows, not looking at Aiba even once.   
The air is the apartment somehow feels heavy. Aiba knows that this is his fault, but he isn't sorry. All he wanted was for Jun to know that he knows, that he still loves him just the same. That it wasn't right for Jun to hide a part of who he is like this.

"Sleep well," Jun says, and Aiba shakes himself out of his haze. Jun is standing beside the couch again, holding a glass of water out to him. Aiba accepts it and takes a long drink. Jun perches on the couch arm, looking awkward. "Masaki, you –"

"What?" Aiba asks. He's drained the glass of water without even realizing it.

"…nothing." Jun says finally. "We'll talk about it later. Just – don't fall asleep in your clothes, okay?"

Aiba nods, fiddling with the buttons on his shirt with some difficulty. His fingers feel thick and slippery against the tiny buttons, and he lets out a puff of breath in frustration as he tries to concentrate. It’s difficult with Jun still there, watching him. 

Jun knocks aside Aiba's hands briskly. "You're so helpless." He takes over, fingers clumsy, but still quicker than Aiba. Jun's drunk, too, Aiba knows, but not quite as much as him, maybe. He's bossy enough. Aiba stays still, chin slumped down towards his chest as he watches the swift movements of Jun's fingers, feeling the warm brush of Jun's fingertips against his skin as each button slips open. 

Aiba feels overheated inside, from the beer and the sinking warmth of Jun's couch, from the way that Jun is half-hovering over him, his hands now pushing Aiba's open shirt back. Aiba struggles to free his arms, and then his shirt is off. Jun folds it carefully while Aiba stands up, rather wobbly, working on the zip of his jeans. 

"Do you…" Aiba glances up. Jun looks uncomfortable. "Do you want to shower or anything?"

"I really just want to go to bed," Aiba says. It's not really a lie; he's tired and he can't handle this right now, the syrup-thick tension in the air and the sudden heat pricking along his spine. 

Jun finishes smoothing out his shirt by the time Aiba is down to his underwear, and he put it down on the couch. They're both standing now, and Aiba realizes he's staring, waiting for something until Jun clears his throat and picks up Aiba's water glass. "Good night."

"Good night," Aiba says, watching Jun put the glass in the sink and disappear into his bedroom, shutting the door behind him. He can't help but feel like he missed his chance at something.

The sheets of the futon are cool and soft and Aiba lets his muscles relax, wrapping the covers close around his shoulders. With his head resting sideways on the pillow, he can see that the light in Jun's bedroom is still on, filtering under the crack of his door. 

He doesn't even know what he was trying to do. He wonders if Jun is worried, or angry or scared. It was probably a bad decision to not talk things out. He should go to Jun and let him know what he meant.

"You're a coward, Aiba Masaki," Aiba whispers quietly to himself. He pulls the covers over his head so he can't see the stripes of soft yellow light that stretch across the floorboards towards him.

Aiba drifts in and out of sleep, snatched up again and again by half-awake dreams; he's on the ferry to Leader's island, but the whale pulling it is too fast, and he needs to fill ten laundry baskets with cherries before they get there, or Nino will make him wear a nipple t-shirt.

He wakes up to the cold blast of Jun's air conditioner blowing directly up his nose and the muffled noises of Jun moving around in the kitchen, slippers shuffling across the tile. The living room is flooded in light, a corner of blue sky visible out of the window when he tilts his head around the couch to look. Aiba's head is pounding, his tongue thick and fuzzy in his mouth. He rolls out of the futon, groaning as his body protests the movement. 

Jun is already dressed, but he has bags under his eyes, and his hair is a wild mess, still half-damp from his shower. He glances around as Aiba comes into the kitchen. "I'm making breakfast," he says, by way of a greeting. "You probably have time for a shower first, if you hurry."

"Okay," Aiba says quickly, glad for a reason to retreat. Something about the stiffness of Jun's movements, the way that he won't look directly at Aiba makes it plain that Jun hasn't forgotten what Aiba said last night.

He showers quickly, careful to wipe down the shower curtain afterwards, to put his wet towels in the laundry hamper near the door and make sure his feet aren’t wet before he leaves the bathroom. "Can I borrow a shirt?" he calls down the hallway towards the kitchen. His own clothes, while not wrinkled (thanks to Jun), still smell stale, like beer, cologne and day-old sweat. 

"I put some on my bed," Jun replies back, voice muffled through the walls. Aiba hesitates for a moment before pushing open the door to Jun's bedroom; the bed is still messy, sheets and covers pushed aside and pillows propped up against the dark wood of the headboard. 

There's a novel splayed open on the nightstand, and a clean pair of jeans and a dark green long-sleeved shirt laid out on the white sheets. The shirt feels cool and silky against his skin; it's form-fitting but not tight, and Aiba self-consciously smooths down the material, checking his reflection in Jun's bathroom mirror. He can’t remember seeing Jun wear this before. 

When he arrives back in the kitchen, there is little time to talk, as Jun slides a fresh, hot egg sandwich onto his plate, and Aiba realizes that despite inhaling about three pounds of noodles and fried rice last night, he's starving. He mumbles his thanks and takes a huge bite, eating until his fingers are sticky with toast crumbs and melted yellow yolk.

They eat in companionable silence – there's still an awkward buzz about the air, in the way that Aiba can feel Jun glancing at him occasionally – but the silence sticks, right until Aiba is scooping up the last of his yogurt with topped with orange slices and honey and Jun is gathering up the dishes to pile in the sink.

"Jun?" Aiba folds up the placemats carefully in half, shaking out the excess toast crumbs over the sink. "Do you remember what I said last night? Before we went to sleep?" It's better to be direct about it, Aiba thinks. There was less room for misunderstanding that way.

Jun avoids his eyes, pushing up his glasses on his nose with one finger as he runs water over the piled-up dishes in the sink. "Not really," he says vaguely. "Why?"

"You really don't?" Aiba presses. Jun is a good actor, but Aiba's known him long enough to know when he's lying.

Jun sighs, turning and leaning back against the counter across from him, arms crossed protectively over his chest. "Masaki," he says levelly, exasperated. "I do, sort of. Not that it made any sense."

"That's why I want to explain it," Aiba says. "I know it sounds stupid, but I just wanted to tell you that I – well – I mean, if you date guys, that's okay, right? I know you might be worried about it, and I know it's probably really stupid and complicated after your divorce and everything, but –" Jun's blank stare is really unnerving. "We're friends, aren't we? There's no need to hide things."

Jun seems to consider him for long minutes. "It isn't really _hiding_ if I don't want to talk about it, is it?" His tone is sharp, dangerous. "It doesn't really concern you."

"So you are seeing someone." Aiba's stomach plummets unexpectedly. It shocked him that up until now, he hadn't really thought it was _true_.

"What if I am?" Jun says. "What are you even getting at? Why do you even want to know?"

"I–" Aiba's doesn't even know what to say anymore. He steps forward, closer into Jun – for a second, Jun bristles and Aiba thinks that he might hit him, but he lets Aiba melt against him, wrap his arms around him. 

"I'm sorry," Aiba says quietly, barely above a whisper, but his head is tucked against Jun's neck, so he must be able to hear him. "I'm really stupid, I know." He can feel Jun's heart pounding furiously against his own chest, the solid heat of Jun's back under his hands. Jun's hands hover uncertainly on his waist, and Aiba pulls back enough to be able to see Jun's face. "I – I'm an idiot, I know. We really don't have to talk about it if you don't want to. I just thought you should know – if you wanted to, we could."

"I just thought you might – that you were saying that you –" Jun clears his throat and looks away. His hands press against Aiba's waist, pushing him away. "Never mind. You're right, it's stupid."

"You thought that –?" Aiba begins to ask, then suddenly understands, eyes widening. "Oh," he says softly. Jun's careful gaze, his tentative, coded offers, the slow heat of his fingertips on Aiba's skin last night comes flooding back. "You thought –"

"Can you please let go of me?" Jun says miserably, sounding embarrassed.

Decisions and instincts click together in Aiba's mind, and almost unconsciously, he tightens his arms around Jun's waist, drawing him back in. "I might –" he starts, feeling his arms shake with nerves.

"What?" Jun says, sounding panicked, fighting against Aiba's grip. "What the fuck, Masaki?"

Aiba presses closer, hearing his own heartbeat thump in his throat, fingers reaching up to brush them over Jun's cheek. He has no idea what's he doing. No idea.

Jun's fingers catch his wrist in a tight grip, and with a solid shove, Aiba gets pushed back nearly into the kitchen table.

Jun's eyes are wide and angry. Aiba rubs his hip where he bumped against a chair. With a cold shock, it suddenly occurs to him that he was about two seconds away from kissing Jun.

"I'm sorry," Aiba begins, wincing as he realizes how inadequate that sounds.

Jun takes off his glasses, rubbing a hand across his eyes. "Can you leave?" he asks. His voice sounds hoarse. "I can't –" He pushes past Aiba, footsteps loud down the hallway towards his bedroom. 

It's only when he's down on the street outside Jun's apartment, the light cold raindrops of a building storm stinging against his skin that Aiba realizes that he's shaking. 

He isn't too sure of himself, isn't too sure what he just did, or what he meant by it. However, he's quite sure that it wasn't a good idea at all.


	3. Chapter 3

After the initial euphoria of just being able to lie on the beach for hours on end wears off, staying at Ohno's is actually kind of boring. Ohno spends most of his time out on the ocean, and Nino has claimed the back deck as his workspace, surrounded with his guitar, a notepad, and an army of stubby yet lovingly-sharpened pencils. 

Aiba imagines that they usually have sex more often, but it probably isn't really polite to do that with house guests around. It's not like they're subtle, or anything – Aiba has long ago accepted that Nino groping Leader's butt was sort of like holding hands. Everyone has their own way of showing affection, he supposes.

Aiba wonders briefly if he should stay for a few days and see how long it takes Nino to explode. It probably won't take that long, since Nino is filming that Korean movie in November, and would be leaving for almost an entire month. He'd be flying back every now and then for their regular work, but probably never long enough to warrant spending any significant amount of time together. 

Sho calls in the early afternoon of the day after Aiba arrives, while Ohno and Nino are out of the house. Aiba answers the phone nervously. Sho's protective instincts had only gotten stronger with age and he is particularly protective of Jun – well, they all are, lately.

"You are in such trouble," Sho says, in a voice that makes Aiba want to curl up into a small ball and hide behind the couch. It isn't angry and rough and snappish like Jun when he's angry, it isn't sharp and sarcastic like Nino in a temper. Sho's angry voice is low and serious, even measured tones like he's trying to press down his emotions. 

"Jun cancelled on me today all of a sudden. I went to his place, and he wouldn't even buzz me up today. We were supposed to go shopping for bowties for the best men. What _happened_?"

"Well –" Aiba tentatively begins explaining his side of the story, but Sho cuts him off almost immediately.

"I know what you did, Masaki, for god's sake. Nino told me when he called me last night after you arrived there. I was asking you what happened to warp your brain to the point that you thought that was a _good idea_.  
"  
"I was drunk!" Aiba says defensively. It's a feeble excuse, but it's all that he has.

"That doesn't matter," Sho growls, "Jun's beside himself right now, did you ever stop to think about him? His ex just got remarried, he just found out that she's having a baby – he's just barely got his life back together and he's taking on so much extra work – the last thing he needs is his sexually confused bandmate trying to come onto him. What the _hell_ were you _thinking_?" 

"I know it was a mistake," Aiba says. There's a lump in his throat – Sho's _yelling_ at him, and Sho never yells. He's suddenly glad that Ohno had the sense to drag Nino out to help him get groceries before Sho called. "I'll apologize to Matsujun, okay? I wasn't thinking."

"Obviously," Sho says, but his tone is a little softer. "In any case, I want you to get your ass back to Tokyo on the next ferry, because I don't think Jun is going to cool down until you apologize properly and tell him what an inconsiderate, stupid idiot you are." 

"You may be short one best man for the wedding once Jun gets a hold of me," Aiba jokes, trying to lighten things up. Sho doesn't even laugh.

"He won't kill you, you know Jun better than that. Once you explain things –well, just do it soon, okay? " Sho says, sounding exasperated. " I don't need is two best men who can't even talk to each other normally for two minutes. It's bad enough that the other two think _they're_ the ones getting married."

+  
Aiba's iPod dies about halfway through the ferry ride back to the mainland, and he's left to try and bake himself in one of the deck chairs under the hot late summer sun, stomach squirming slightly as he thinks about what he could possibly say to Jun. 

It goes without saying that he really kind of fucked things up. In retrospect, especially after Sho's phone call, it's really kind of embarrassing to see how much he overreacted. Trying to come onto Jun was definitely the worst mistake, but Aiba had to admit to himself, somewhat guiltily, that it wasn't just a random act.

There had been a time, about five or six years before, before Jun had gotten married, before Ohno and Nino had advanced any further in their awkward mating dance beyond poking each other in the ass – when Aiba had looked at Arashi, and had been absolutely positive that he would never find anyone in the world who he loved more. He never said it out loud, because that kind of sappiness generally required beer and a lot of post-concert adrenaline, and this was just different. It was a completely sober thought, and it scared him.

All of them played down their relationship in the media, but the reality was that they _were_ close, in a way that went beyond simply spending time together. They could read each other, they understood each other. Aiba had his own friends and family, but when he needed someone who would let him be his most basic self, who didn’t need explanations – it was Arashi, every time.

Aside from that, Aiba can't really imagine himself in a relationship with any one of them. He played around with the idea in his mind at times, wondering what it would be like. The problem was that he idealized it all too much in his mind. When a girlfriend bought him a video game for his birthday that he already had, he had thought _Nino would have known_. If a date wanted to go to a pancake shop, he would think longingly about how Ohno was always, always okay with ramen. It wasn't just shallow things like that, either. There had been fights, ugly and cold, and even though he would push away the thoughts as they rose in his mind, he couldn't help but think _Matsujun would have understood_ , or _Sho-kun would never have said that_. 

Aiba knows that breaking up because things weren't perfect was the easy way out. He knows it wasn't fair to someone to measure them against another person. He knows that relationships were about work and trust, but some part of him just doesn't care.

So, this "throwing-himself-at-Jun" thing – it hadn't really come out of nowhere, if he is honest with himself. It was a thought that he had never planned to put into action. Finding out Jun was maybe seeing a guy – that made what had always been impossible suddenly a lot more plausible. He had spent so much time going over the idea of _Jun with guys_ in his head not just because he was concerned about him. No, his motives were way more selfish. Pretty terrible, really.

Still – since arriving at Toshimajima after escaping Jun's place, Aiba had spent countless hours lying on the patio, watching the waves roll and slosh onto the beach. He had played back that night in his mind. It was all a bit bleary, but he hadn't been that drunk – he remembered. He remembered Jun being all tense and shifty. The way he had kept touching Aiba – it felt somehow expectant. Sure, Aiba is the guilty one here, but that didn't mean that Jun hadn't maybe thought about the same things that he had.

That, ultimately, was the thought that had pushed him off the couch and back onto the ferry. He had to see Jun – to apologize, but also to see what he's really thinking. Of course, he has to corner him first. 

This will take some planning, but Aiba has a long ferry ride ahead, and not much else to do. He digs out his phone and starts typing a text out to their manager.

+

The staff happily give him the go-ahead to intrude, and are so thrilled to have another Arashi member drop by that they didn't even ask any questions. 

Aiba pops his head hesitantly into the recording booth after Jun starts up a sample of their new single. "Um. Hi?"

Jun stares at him, his expression completely neutral. 

"Can I join the show? The staff said it was okay." _Which means that it's going to happen_ is implied, congratulating himself on his awesome idea. Once he had gotten Jun's schedule from their manager, it had been a simple issue of rushing off the ferry at Yokohama and catching a train up to Omiya. By simple, he meant 'act of pure insanity'. Aiba couldn't remember the last time he had taken a train (packed with weekend traffic), with only a mask and a hat standing between him and certain, squishy doom. 

Still, he had made it largely unmolested, and here he was. 

"All right, then," Jun says in measured tones. "Come in."

The song is winding down, so Aiba takes a seat, tapping his toe to the last chorus while Jun adjusts his mic and gets ready. 

"That was _Classic_ , Arashi's new single, out for release next month," Jun says. "Speaking of Arashi, we have a surprise guest on the show tonight."

"Hello," Aiba says into his mic, suddenly feeling shy. Not that he isn't used to this – or he didn't want the whole public aspect involved – he feels like that's all that is keeping him from being torn limb from limb at the moment. " _Classic_ is really good! I still can't remember a lot of it, though."

"Seriously, you need to get it together," Jun says, and he sounds like his usual self – nagging, playful. Aiba wonders how much of it is acting. "It's _our romance is going higher_ , not _our pants are on fire_."

"I like my version better," Aiba protests, and Jun laughs. The sound makes Aiba's shoulders relax a bit, and he starts to gain confidence. This plan could work.

"Let's read some letters," Jun says. He lifts up a paper from a stack on the table. "This one is – "

"You should let me read it!" Aiba says, "Since I'm your special guest and all."

"You're such a nuisance," Jun says, but they're on air, so he lets Aiba have his way. He knows just as well that Aiba that on air, all he can do is play along.

"This one is from Green-kun, from Chiba," Aiba says quickly, before Jun can interrupt him. He hopes he isn't being too obvious, but Jun's knit brows and exasperated frown mean that he is probably lacking just a little bit of subtlety. "Dear Matsujun – I really love your radio show and I listen to it every week." 

"Thank you" Jun murmurs, and Aiba can see his game face firmly in place, determined to not acknowledge what Aiba is doing. 

"The other day, I had a fight with a friend," Aiba presses on, feeling himself sweating just a little. The staff watching from outside the booth look a little confused and Aiba doesn't blame them – he isn't even pretending to be reading something. Aiba is facing Jun, eyes fixed on him. He's going to see this through. "I did something really stupid, and I think I really hurt my friend. I don't really know how to fix things, and I was wondering," He clears his throat, nervous. Jun is meeting his eyes now, sharp and serious. "I was wondering if Matsujun had any advice for how I might try to make up with my friend."

Jun clears his throat, drumming his fingers on the desk. The seconds tick by and Aiba is aware of the heaviness of the silence. He's starting to feel a bit desperate to say something, anything when Jun says quietly, "It's probably best to be honest, isn't it?"

"It is," Aiba says wholeheartedly, relieved, "It really is."

"Somehow," Jun's expression is closed; Aiba can't read it at all. His palms are sweaty and he can't tell if this was a good idea or if it's just pissed Jun off even more. "Just if things get talked about? A real friend would probably listen."

"It's probably good to explain that you didn't mean to hurt them at all," Aiba agrees. It can't hurt to toss in a point for his side.

"Hmm." Jun's tone is non-committal, gruff. "So, given that this week's theme is 'friendship', let's hear the next song. Please listen - this is _Friendship_ , by Aiba Masaki." Jun doesn't looking at Aiba.

There's a minute's pause while the music begins to play before Aiba slides off his headphones and dares to look at Jun directly. "Matssun?"

"We are going to talk about this," Jun warns, but there's less of a cold sharpness to his tone like there was before. "Don't you dare think that you're getting away with just crashing my radio show and thinking you've fixed everything."

"I don't," Aiba protests helplessly, except that he was kind of hoping that he had. He twirls the cords of his headphones nervously around his fingers, watching Jun shuffle through the papers on the desk. The song winds to a close, and they sign off.

+

It's past midnight when the company van stops in front of Jun's apartment; Jun blinks when Aiba follows him out of the van uncertainly, but he just nods tersely and walks into his building with Aiba trailing behind him.

"You're going to tell the truth," Jun says, as they get into the elevator. "Understood?" His voice is more serious than angry, but Aiba can only manage to nod meekly. He's still far from being forgiven.

"I didn't mean to do it," Aiba says, once they're inside Jun's apartment. He takes his shoes off and watches Jun flick on the main lights, following him into the kitchen. "I had kind of figured out that maybe you were seeing someone – at first, I just wanted to… let you know that I was fine with it. Things kind of got complicated, though."

Jun sighs. "You are such an idiot." He pulls open his fridge and tugs out two beers before handing one to Aiba. "Why not just ask?"

Aiba plays with the tab on the beer can, embarrassed. "That would have made sense," he admits.

Jun studies him carefully, and seems to take pity on him. "It's nothing serious," he says after a moment. "We're good friends. Sometimes we sleep together. That's all. I'm not ready for anything else – right now."

Aiba bites his lip and opens his can. "Oh," he says softly. "That's fine."

"Now you know," Jun says. He leans back against the kitchen counter, arms folded. "So I would like to know why it mattered so much to you that you know this." His expression is stern, but somehow curious.

Aiba takes a drink to let him organize his thoughts for a moment. "I'm not in love with you," he says finally, stating the first certain thing that comes to his mind. He means it as a reassurance, but it sounds more like a defense.

Jun nods, lips twitching into a smirk. "So you broke up with your girlfriend, crashed at my apartment, and then molested me over breakfast – because…"

"Not all of those things are connected!" Aiba says, sounding lame even to his own ears. "Besides, you were weird the night before – after I told you I knew. I couldn't really read what you were thinking."

"I thought you were trying to come onto me," Jun says plainly. "What did you think?"

This would be funny under any other circumstances. "Mostly the same?" It's a bit embarrassing, in retrospect, how he read into Jun's actions like he did. "I guess I thought – if you were into guys, maybe you could have a thing for me."

"I don't." Jun's voice is gentle. It's almost an apology. It's funny, really, how the same words can have so many different weights and meanings.

"I know," Aiba says, even though he can feel his hands shaking on the beer can. "It's fine."

"Are you disappointed? You said you weren't in love with me, either." 

"I'm not." Jun's expression is disbelieving, and hell, Aiba's in deep enough already, he might as well be honest. "I'm not, but – I'd be lying if I said the idea didn't interest me. I didn't really know what I meant by any of it, but I did say I was sorry."

Jun sighs. "It's not just your fault. I'm the one who really started things. I don't know if it was the alcohol – I probably would have slept with you that night if you'd wanted to. If you had pushed a little more."

A momentary shiver of heat prickles under Aiba's skin at the idea. "Do you think it's really that different? Being in love or - or just loving someone and being…interested?"

It makes sense inside his head, but it sounds pretty stupid when he puts it into words. Jun seems to consider it anyways, his dark eyes serious as he takes another sip of beer.  
"Would you want that?" Jun asks finally. "To be with me like that?"

Aiba sets down his can on the counter, twisting his fingers together. "I don't know," he admits. "I think – yes, but I don't know if it's just the idea of it, or if I'm lonely and want something safe." 

It's strange, being this honest with each other. They've known each other for nearly two decades, but Aiba can't remember if they've ever talked like this with each other before. 

Jun avoids his gaze. "I think it's better if we don't."

"So do I," Aiba agrees quickly. It's a bit disappointing, but he knows Jun is right. A relationship isn't something you negotiate your way into, and you don't treat one of the most precious people in the world to you like a one-night stand. He nearly made that mistake already. Who knows how many more they would make it they actually tried to be together? 

"I think we would have made a mess of things anyway, right? So it's okay like this." He's _crying_ , Aiba realizes, mortified. He's standing in the middle of Jun's kitchen, clutching a beer with tears leaking out of his eyes uncontrollably.

The fierceness of Jun's hug surprises him. "Masaki," Jun says softly, pulling back so he can wipe the wetness off Aiba's cheeks with his thumbs. "Don't, okay?"

Aiba nods, wiping his eyes on his shirt sleeve. "Sorry."

Jun smiles, framing Aiba's face in both hands and kissing him softly. It's slow, lingering and warm. Aiba clutches the back of Jun's shirt, closing his eyes and holding on as their mouths move against each other. Part of him knows that this is never, ever going to happen again, and the softness of Jun's hands against his skin, the sour tang taste of beer on his breath and the heat of their faces pressed close together is almost overwhelming.

The kiss stays sweet, almost chaste, but Aiba is almost dizzy when they finally pull apart. 

"That's some way to tell someone you aren't in love with them," he tells Jun.

Jun grins. "I could kick you out if you'd prefer that."

Aiba buries his head into Jun's shoulder, reluctant to untangle himself just yet. "Sorry for messing things up," he says quietly, an extra apology. 

"Nothing has to change." Jun gives Aiba a gentle squeeze before letting him go. "Come on, go home. We need to get some sleep before the Kohaku press conference tomorrow."

This is the Jun that Aiba has always loved; bossy but gentle, serious and openly warm. They probably wouldn't work together, but it's okay like this. It really is. Jun will always be a part of his life and he will always love him. That should be enough.

It really should be enough.


	4. Chapter 4

Aiba has had his fair share of break-ups, and as he grew older, it surprised him how they seemed to hurt less over time. Mind you, he was usually the one initiating the whole thing. Either that, or he just withdrew until the girl got frustrated and ended it. It wasn't that he wasn't sincere; somehow, it was like once he saw that things would end, there was no point in continuing.

It sounds callous, but the reality was his heart just wasn't in it. With each new relationship, he felt a spark of hope, but it never lasted. 

Of course it was his fault. He didn't cry when he told Nanami that he wanted to stop seeing each other. He hasn't cried over a break-up since – it was hard to remember.

And yet he had started crying in the middle of Jun's kitchen like a rejected schoolboy.  
Well, it was hardly a break-up, but it had felt pretty soul-crushing all the same. Embarrassing, too. Yet when he had left, he felt strangely calm. He had gone home, drank some beer, watched some TV, and gone to bed early.

And now he was awake far too early, buzzed on coffee that his manager had kindly pressed in his hand when he found Aiba face-down in the break room couch, and trying to ignore the surreptitious, concerned looks that Sho keeps shooting in his direction. 

Jun looks groggy, but composed. He sits at the break room table and starts flipping through the script for the conference with hardly more than a casual "Good morning" in anyone's direction. It almost makes Aiba angry for a moment, until he realizes that would be ridiculous; wasn't the point that they were both getting back to normal?

Ohno and Nino arrive barely on time, bleary-eyed and dazed from the overnight ferry. They slide onto the couch on either side of Aiba. Nino steals his coffee, and Ohno manages to fall asleep within seconds of hitting the couch. Aiba relaxes a bit. This feels more like normal.

It's the first Kohaku ever with a new-half hosting for the Red team, so most of the media attention focuses on that. It's their seventh year hosting, and while they are always truly grateful and honoured, the press seems to accept it as a foregone conclusion that they will be there. Haruna Ai seems like she will be fun to host with – she's not shy at all before the cameras, though the gravity of the situation keeps her reasonably solemn. She only pinches Sho's butt once (for "good luck", as she claims), off-camera and backstage.

Aiba couldn't be happier, standing shoulder-to-shoulder with the rest of Arashi. It's the times that they are together that he always marvels at how well they fit. They can read each other's movements like a second language; they naturally complement and cover for each other. Even these days, when these meetings are more and more rare, they haven't forgotten how to be together.

When it's over, the green room clears out fast; they're all busy, and there's little time to sit around and catch up. Aiba doesn't have anything for a few hours, so he takes his time getting dressed, and it's only when he's pulling on his jacket that he notices that Sho is still planted on the couch, checking messages on his phone - trying to look casual about it, but obviously waiting for something. 

"I talked to Jun," Aiba says, trying to sound casual.

Sho's eyes are empathetic, but his mouth twitches in a smile. "You're still in one piece, I see."

Aiba hangs up the suit he had been wearing for the press conference back on the rack. ""I apologized. We –" he feels his voice waver, and decides to keep it short. "We're fine."

Sho nods, leaning forward a bit, putting his phone down. "Are you really fine?" he asks.

Aiba opens his mouth to say _yes_ , but something stops him. He sits on the arm of the couch. There's no need to lie to Sho on top of trying to lie to himself. 

"I don't know what I want," he admits. "Jun said we should just be friends – that we'd just mess things up. I think he's right. But I still…"

Sho lets out his breath in sigh. "Masaki."

"I know I was wrong," Aiba keeps his head down, fidgeting. "I just –" 

"You're not wrong," Sho interrupts, and he gets up, moving over to the side of the couch Aiba is sitting on. He ruffles a hand through Aiba's hair comfortingly. "I'm sorry for yelling at you before. It's just – I thought you were just fucking around, and Jun – well, Jun has been hurt enough."

"Why does everyone think I just fuck around?" Aiba doesn't get it. Sure, he's had more relationships that most of them, but it's not like he's playing. He _tries_ , he really tries, but he can see the end every time he starts. 

When Jun had kissed him – it had felt _good_. It wasn't stars and hearts in his eyes and all that, but it had felt like sliding a puzzle piece into place. It was satisfying. It fit. Now, talking to Sho, more pieces were starting fall into place, and he was starting to realize that he had agreed more out of sheer terror of losing Jun's friendship than actually agreeing that it was a bad idea.

"I don't think you realize how much he trusts you." Sho says thoughtfully. "You two are always together – I think he talks to you more than anyone else, except maybe Leader. I think he just sees how much he has to lose, and doesn't want to take any chances. It doesn't mean that he doesn't feel anything for you. He's just trying to protect himself – maybe protect you, too. Who's to say that he's wrong?" 

Aiba can't say anything in reply to that. He loves Jun. He's always known that, but there's a gap between knowing and really feeling through the depths of exactly what that meant. It wasn't loneliness or curiosity that was driving him to do such utterly stupid shit. 

A memory floats into his mind suddenly; Jun bent over a small cake, candles flickering soft light over his face. His expression peaceful, but focused. The two of them sitting in the middle of Jun's floor, eating cake – Aiba couldn't remember being happier, before or since.

No, it isn't just that Jun is Arashi, and he loves Arashi. It isn't just curiosity about Jun being with guys, and what that might be like. Jun has always made him feel warm, appreciated, and understood – and Aiba is confident that he understands Jun. He has seen him triumphant, angry, scared, heartbroken – he knows how to map his feelings and navigate through to gentler waters. 

He wants Jun. And he means it. 

Sho sinks back into the couch cushions. "Awhile back – after Jun's wedding, I told Nino to back off. I thought he and Ohno might make a mess of things. It might be my fault that it took them so long."

"Not your fault," Aiba slides down into the cushions next to Sho, drawing up his legs onto the couch. "They're both stubborn idiots."

They sit silently like that for a few moments, until Sho finally says. "You're really going to try? You might get kicked out on your face a few times, you know." There's an edge of laughter to his voice.

Aiba sighs. "I'm not sure I've got the mental strength for this anymore." Jun isn't impulsive. If Aiba really wants to get through to him – to convince him – it would be like water wearing through stone. Gently, unobtrusively, and possibly taking a million years.

Sho chuckles, getting to his feet and stretching. "Come on. I'll buy you ramen. There's a good place around the corner."

The door of their green room clicks open, and Haruna Ai's head pops around the door frame. "Not naked enough!" she says disapprovingly, before closing the door again.

Sho gives the door a long look while Aiba laughs until his sides were sore. "Remind me to speak to the staff about locks." 

The year is already half over, but Aiba has a feeling that the last few months will be their best yet.


	5. Chapter 5

_One month later…_

While the wedding ceremony itself was small and quiet, just family and close friends at a picturesque Shinto shrine, the reception party is a raucous and grand affair, full of Sho's wide network of friends, a ridiculous number of Olympic athletes, a crowd of senpai and kouhai, a few familiar staff from the company and large number of completely unfamiliar people that Aiba supposes are Kyoko's friends and family.

The large glass windows of the reception room face west, and the blood-orange glow of the sunset illuminates Nino's face as he sings a song that he had written specifically for this, had planned as a surprise with Kyoko behind Sho's back, and didn't even let Ohno hear it before the actual event.

"It was a Nino-thing," Ohno had whispered to Aiba, as the crowd had applauded in surprise when Nino appeared on stage, guitar in hand. "He really loves Sho, even if he shows it in stupid ways."

Nino's song is poignantly sweet and honest, and even Sho's best efforts at emotional stoicism crumble within minutes. Of course, they're all a mess after that. Jun is beside him, and Aiba finds himself gripping Jun's hand almost painfully, trying to control the flow of tears and snot without messing up his suit.

Nino is wearing his most adorable, smug grin as he walks back towards the table afterwards, "You liked it?" he asks Sho, who is being handed extra napkins by a fondly exasperated Kyoko. 

"You're the absolute worst," Sho says thickly, his nose resembling a tomato. Nino understands him perfectly, getting close enough for Sho to grab him in a crushing hug.  
It's a happy day.

Despite all of this, Aiba keeps watching Jun. It's – well, weddings, and all. Jun's hardly delicate, and he's clearly _happy_ for Sho, just as all of them are. Aiba can't help but worry. 

Jun catches him glancing over when Kyoko throws her bouquet. "What?" he asks.  
Aiba smiles, but he can feel it fluttering at the edges, uncertain. "This is nice," he says, quiet enough that only Jun can hear. "You're happy, aren't you?"

The look that Jun gives him is exasperated, but strangely tender. "It sounds like you aren't sure if you are."

Aiba watches Sho dancing with his wife. Nino is sitting next to Ohno again at their table. They aren’t even touching, but there is a warm glow around them, although maybe only evident because Aiba knows what he's looking at.

"I wanted you to say yes," Aiba admits. He can't look at Jun now. He picks up a paper napkin, delicately shredding it and rolling the paper twists between his fingers. "Even it would have been a total mess. I know it's selfish, but…"

He can hear Jun exhale an unsteady breath. "You agreed, though – that it was a bad idea."  
Aiba smiles weakly and steals a glance at Jun's face; the pity and warmth in Jun's eyes is almost too much to take. "I know. I really, really do, but –I just feel like – if we don't, if we don't know what might have happened."

Jun frowns. "This isn't some experiment." He puts down his glass of wine. "We talked already," he says, his voice quiet but firm. "It's done, and it's for the best."

He walks away, leaving Aiba alone at their table, surrounded by an army of half-deflated balloons and empty wineglasses.

Metaphors, Aiba thinks, really like to bite you in the butt.

He's trying to pop his fourth balloon when Nino sits down next to him, swatting away the balloon and handing him a beer.

"Fucking weddings," Nino says, commiserating. "Sometimes I think the married couple is the only happy people in the room. If even that."

"Love is stupid," Aiba grouches, licking some beer foam off his hand.

Nino pats him on the arm. "Really stupid. But you know what – " He leans in, as if about to impart an important secret. "So are _you_."

Nino ducks out of range, so Aiba's swipe barely misses his head. They're both laughing, though, and somehow, Aiba's tears start to leak out, too.

"You suck," Aiba says, and he knows he doesn't mean, but on some level, he _does_. Nino has Ohno, and it was _easy_ for them. Well, not easy –, but – well…

"You're giving up too easily," Nino says, voice light, but suddenly serious. "J. – he's not the type to take risks, you know. He gets hurt."

"Everyone gets hurt." Aiba feels a warm weight against his back, and looks over his shoulder to find Ohno draped on him. 

Nino rubs at his face. "I'm crap at these things," he says, seemingly talking more to himself than Aiba or Ohno. 

"It takes time, Aiba-chan," Ohno says. "You need to show him that you're not going anywhere. That you want him to be there."

"It might take years," Nino says, his voice cracking slightly, and a look passes between him and Ohno that makes Aiba shiver.

"It might," Ohno says softly. "But if you want it –if you want him – you won't give up."  
Aiba stares glumly into his beer. They're right – they're completely right, but he's never said those words to Nino before, and he knows better than to start now.

"And until then," Nino says, with the relief of someone who has successfully navigated a conversation about Our Awkward Male Emotions, "We get drunk as hell and hope for the best."

Now that was a plan Aiba could get into.

+

By the time the sky is completely black, and the candles gleaming gently around the dance floor are the only light in the room, Aiba is feeling reasonably more cheerful. Ohno and Nino had stuck by him for a few hours, and had significantly contributed to a growing collection of glasses, but they had wandered off to bother Sho. Aiba can't quite bring himself to leave the table; he's comfortable here, with his head pillowed on one arm, watching people sway slowly in the flickering lights.

It isn't just the alcohol; somewhere in his center, he's come to a decision, and the knowledge makes him feel more settled, somehow.

Jun appears suddenly in front of him, managing, through a feat of extreme eyebrow aerobics, to look concerned and irritated all at once. "Are you okay?" he asks, sitting down next to Aiba.

"Yup," Aiba makes a Herculean effort to pull himself upright in his chair. The room seems to move along with him, and he puts his hand on the table to steady himself. "Woah."

Jun sighs. "I'll give you a ride home. We should talk, but –"

"What?" Aiba is suddenly bolt upright, the room moving in interesting circles. "Let's talk. We can talk now."

The look he gets in response is withering. "We are _not_ talking when you're sloshing with enough alcohol to fill three swimming pools."

"I'm not –" Aiba protests, but then realizes that it's probably futile. He couldn't walk a straight line now. Hell, he's not sure that standing up unattended in a good option, either. Still, he feels like he's missing a big chance here. "Will – will you still want to talk later? I mean, I can wait," he adds obediently. 

Jun seems to soften. "Tell you what," he says, in the tone of a man resigned, "Come home with me. I don't think you're going to be any good left on your own in the morning."

"I promise not to puke on _anything_ ," Aiba promises fervently. He totters to his feet as Jun helps lift him by the elbow. 

"I've heard that one before," Jun says wryly. "Let's go say good night to Sho before we go."  
As they make their way across the room, Aiba is intensely grateful for Jun's solid grip on him. He feels like his insides have turned to soap, bubbly and slippery, and it feels like his feet will slide right off the floor if he stands on his own. The candles scattered all around are beautiful, but, Aiba thinks, possibly not the best party-planning idea. He isn't the only unsteady-looking person floundering around the room, narrowly avoiding self-immolation by tea lights. With the amount of alcohol in his system, Aiba wonders, would he explode like a giant firework? The idea makes him giggle uncontrollably.

"Here's Sho-kun," Jun says when they reach a huddle of chairs in a corner of the room. Ohno looks even drunker than Aiba, and is crooning something softly under his breath. Nino has forsaken all chairs for the comfort of Sho's lap, who is beaming and stroking Nino's hair. There couldn't be a happier man on Earth.

"Sho-chan!" Aiba says, pitching forward, and nearly squashing Nino, if not for Jun catching him at the last minute. "Sho-chan, congratulations! Matsujun is taking me home."

"Are you congratulating me for that?" Sho asks, looking bemused.

Nino smirks up from his perch around Sho's knees. "Taking advantage of our Aiba-chan in this state?" he sing-songs. "What a bad man, J."

"Shut up, Kazunari," Jun says amiably, patting Nino on the head.

Sho hugs Aiba tightly around the neck. "I love you guys so much," he says cheerfully. 

Aiba happily tangles himself in Sho's solid, slightly sweaty warmth. "Me too! Have a great honeymoon."

"Which you are not starting for another three hours," Nino informs them, shifting possessively in Sho's lap, uncomfortably squished in the midst of all the hugging.

"Nino is having separation issues," Ohno hiccups.

Sho lets go of Aiba. "I'll be back in five days," he promises, speaking to Nino, but with a clear undercurrent of reassurance aimed at all of them.

"Anyways," Jun says, "We'll see you then." He resumes his firm grip on Aiba's arm, and starts dragging him in the direction of the parking lot. 

It's pitch-black outside, and pretty chilly for September. Aiba shivers a little, the night air clearing his head a little. It's only now, walking away, that his emotions catch up to him, and by the time they slide into Jun's car, there are tears streaming out of his eyes.  
Jun looks alarmed for an instant, but digs up a box of tissues and tosses it at Aiba. 

"You're such a mess," he says gruffly, though his own voice sounds a bit thick.

"I can't help it," Aiba hiccoughs, the tears streaming faster now. "It's – Sho-chan is so happy, and I'm so happy..."

"That would explain the sobbing," Jun's voice is dryly amused, but he's starting to look a little wet-eyed himself. He gives Aiba a comforting pat on the leg as he eases his car out of the parking spot and towards the exit. "Let's get you to bed."

The roads are quiet this late at night, and Aiba's tears slow and fade, the heave of his heart settling. He feels better, somehow. Everything feels good. Even with nothing decided, just having Jun here by him – no one else could understand this. No one else would know what he needs.

He's not willing to settle for less anymore. 

+

Jun's apartment is cold, but cleaner than Aiba remembers. He sits meekly on a kitchen stool while Jun pours him a glass of water. He hadn't realize how thirsty he was until he started drinking, but it's gone in less than a minute, and he hands the glass back, licking his moistened lips.

"More?" Jun says, and then, "Good." He fills the glass again, and sits at the stool opposite Aiba. He looks old, Aiba thinks, or maybe just tired. The lines on his face are more visible in the stark kitchen light, furrowed between his eyes, stretched tight around his mouth.

"Thank you," Aiba says. He fidgets with the empty glass. "Jun – I'm sorry. I've been a total ass. Even so, you –"

Jun raps him on the knuckles, then covers his hand with his own. "I'm not interested in your speeches," he says. He pauses, seeming to struggle with something in himself. 

"Come to bed," he says finally. "Let's go to bed," he adds, as if he's worried he's not making himself clear enough.

Aiba feels his mouth drop open in shock, and quickly closes it. 

"I thought you wanted to wait and talk…" he begins cautiously. Aiba wants to make sure – he wants to do this right – but he doesn't really want Jun to think twice about what he just said.

"We will," Jun says. "But I –" He looks down at the counter. "You said you've been an ass, and maybe – maybe, but at least you've been honest. I was too scared to even think – all I wanted to do was push you away." He looks squarely at Aiba. "I thought it would be better that way."

Aiba can feel Jun's hand shaking, and he curls their fingers together. "It wouldn't be," he whispers.

"No," Jun agrees. He strokes his thumb gently over Aiba's knuckles. "You're right. There's no point in turning back now." 

Aiba's heart swells with happiness. "So, we…?"

Jun smiles, extracting his hand from Aiba and standing up from his stool. "Later. I'm tired, and you're barely making sense."

"Bed," Aiba breathes, scooting off his own stool. The world is still giddy and tilting under him.

"Shower," Jun corrects him, steering him forward. "You stink."

Aiba is impatient with delight, eager to be tucked into Jun's warm, soft sheets, to snuggle unabashedly into Jun's solid heat and just _sleep_. He's a patient man, though, and he submissively watches Jun putter around gather towels, an extra toothbrush, some pyjama pants – and tries to control the rising urgency he can feel bubble up inside him. 

"Jun?" he says, while Jun is trying to give Aiba what a tour of his shampoo collection that He Must Not Touch. "I love you."

They hadn't said it yet, and maybe it isn't the best timing – Jun half-bent over the tub, Aiba clutching an armful of fluffy towels. Still, it's worth it for the sharp, wanting look Jun's eyes as he straightens up and looks right at Aiba. Aiba would do anything to have Jun at him like that on a regular basis – and it would be even hotter if they were both naked, he speculates.

"I –" Jun seems to fumble with his words. "Don't be too long," he says, threateningly, but the urgency is clear under his words. 

"No problem," Aiba says, and he's happy, so happy. It's like butterflies are fluttering in his stomach, making his insides jump and twist. 

Jun steps closer, and smiles, warm and wanting. "I'll be waiting," he says teasingly.

"Okay," Aiba says, the butterflies flapping violently inside him. 

And he promptly throws up on Matsujun's towels.


End file.
